


Dollhouse.

by Daydreamer_Daydreaming



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Creepy, F/F, F/M, M/M, Supernatural Elements, Witchcraft, i have no idea what to tag this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-07 07:11:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12228078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daydreamer_Daydreaming/pseuds/Daydreamer_Daydreaming
Summary: In August of 2007, Betty Cooper was ten years old and playing in the flowers with her friends. Five years later, Betty is still ten years old and playing in the flowers. Though there's something buried in the dirt. Missing Person's posters with her name on.  Cheryl Blossom has been playing with her dolls for five years now. There was something about Betty’s sweet smile, Veronica’s playfulness, Archie’s dimpled grin and Jughead’s jokes that made her think that it was okay. But as the years go by, and her four friends stay frozen in time, she figures they’re much too old for her now. She hates seeing them trapped. She has to save them.





	1. Prologue.

**Author's Note:**

> this is the creepiest thing ive ever written and I kinda love it?? though judge for yourself! :)

~~Places, places, get in your places~~

~~Throw on your dress and put on your doll faces~~

~~Everyone thinks that we're perfect~~

~~Please don't let them look through the curtains~~ ~~~~

 

**Prologue.**

_'Wake up_ _,_ _Betty!'_

Cheryl Blossom felt like crying with frustration. ‘Betty.’ She said softly, and then the blonde’s name was becoming progressively more choked in her throat. ‘Betty, can you hear me?!’

But it was fruitless. Of course Betty couldn't hear her. In Betty’s mind however, it was a whole different story. Cheryl was right. Betty couldn't hear her. 

First there was silence. There was birdsong, followed by the gentle rattle of tree's shedding leaves. It was a whole different world in Betty Cooper’s mind, as oppose to the disturbing reality she was unaware of. Cheryl had tried. She had really tried. As much as she enjoyed having friends, as she had grown up, she had realized it was wrong. As she matured and her birthday’s passed; her tenth, eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth- fourteenth- Their birthday’s had passed too. There had been no celebration, no cake or presents for what her family had nicknamed; ‘The Frozen Children.’

Though they weren't children any more. Cheryl had watched them change from the little kids they had been on that hot August day five years ago. She had watched them grow older, mature from the kids she once knew. Their hair grew longer, clipped so it was neat. Honey blonde hair grew out thick and fast, so Cheryl’s mother had tied it back. Childish red curls had grown out, became thinner and started to obstruct frozen brown eyes. Though Cheryl wasn't even sure his eyes were still brown. They had been glued shut for five years and counting. All she saw was his little self, his gleeful grin and excited chocolate coloured eyes. But somehow, she figured he wasn’t like that any more. When she was old enough to know what feelings were, for her to start being spiked by fluttery butterflies in her stomach. She had that feeling a lot  when she looked at him. He had grown handsome over the years. Sometimes she wondered what would happen if he opened his eyes.

Cheryl’s parents didn't leave them to die. They were kept healthy and fed. Just like the witch had advised. So, the children weren't skinny. The boys had become muscular and chunky. Facial hair had started to sprout, that was quickly trimmed away. The girls had matured into women. Tangled pigtails had smoothed out, skin had started to glisten a warm honey colour.  But as the years had gone by, and Cheryl had lived the same day over and over again- the crystal blue sky, the burning sun, and the tickle of grass and flowers on her legs. It had started to frustrate her. They were _supposed_ to be her friends, and they were. It just wasn’t enough. Her mature self no longer wanted to live in a fake memory with children who had grown way beyond their age. At least...physically. Mentally, they were still ten years old. They were still playing in Elizabeth Cooper’s garden in the dirt.

 So they remained a sort of art. In a twisted kind of way. They were kind of beautiful. Sometimes when Cheryl was sick of the fake world- the childish giggling and nursery rhymes. She liked to escape back into reality. Though reality itself was even more terrifying than the fake world. In the real world, there was just the Blossom basement and four kids trapped in a glowing blue aura. Cheryl used to think it was beautiful. The light contrasted their skin perfectly. But now, they didn't even look human. They looked like ghosts. Spirits, whose minds were trapped in a fabricated Utopia.

Betty Cooper was the one who interested her. She had just a flicker of life, of subconscious awareness. She wasn't like the others. So that was why Cheryl was standing in front of the girl. She was sick of the fake reality, she was sick of watching the kids grow up with no knowledge of their age. Betty seemed to be louder than the others. Cheryl sensed the girl was awake, somewhere. Right at the back of a ten year old mind, a sixteen year old was slamming her fists into the barrier.  It had happened a few weeks ago. During the monthly check-up. The witch had been conducting tests on the kids. Seeing if they were starting to wake up. After all, five years was a long time. Cheryl had been standing at the back of the room, trying incredibly hard not to speak out. She wanted to tell her parents she no longer needed friends. After all, she was old enough now to make her own.

Though that was when Betty Cooper had flinched. Just a small flinch, barely noticeable. The witch hadn’t noticed it, neither had her parents. They were too busy marvelling the others. Who were like statues. Sitting down statues of course. ‘Look at them,’ Cheryl’s mother had purred. It had made her feel a little sick. Penelope Blossom was caressing Jughead Jones’s motionless face. Cheryl couldn't deny that he too was handsome. ‘They have grown into fine young people.’ She smiled curtly, and turned to Cheryl. ‘Do you still like them, honey?’

‘Yes.’ Cheryl had answered automatically. If she answered differently, they wouldn’t hesitate in getting rid of them. In her mother and father’s eyes, the kids were nothing more but dolls that she played with in her mind. Dolls who were getting older. Far too big for their dollhouse. Sometimes Cheryl blamed the four’s fate on her brother’s death. Jason had died five years ago, the same year Betty Cooper and her friends became her new friends. Her new play pieces. Jason had always been part of her. He was her twin, her best friend. The only thing keeping her from losing it. Cheryl hadn’t been the easiest child. She had had multiple therapists because when she was little she enjoyed cutting worms in half, picking the legs off spiders. Her parents thought she was sadistic. But Jason was her anchor. He stopped her from completely going off her rocker. When she was six, her little puppy Ringo had gone missing. A few days later, his blood stained collar had been found rung around one of Cheryl’s Barbie dolls necks. When Jason died, Penelope and Clifford Blossom were terrified what their little girl- what their little _monster_ would do next.

So they found her new friends who she could play with until her heart was content. Until she had stopped murdering her pets and hanging her dolls from nooses made of ribbons. Though with the four, it was different. She couldn't hurt them, since they were inside her head. The witch had told her she could visit them whenever she wanted. And for the past five years, she had. 

Except Cheryl was far too old to play with them any-more. Cheryl smiled sweetly. It was a grimace her parents ignored. ‘Yes, I love them, mommy.’ She said. But instead of paying attention to her parents, she was far more interested in the fact that Betty Cooper’s head had jolted slightly. Like the girl, for just a second, had been shoved back into reality. It had only lasted a few seconds, and it was probably just a regular spasm. The witch had explained that these kind of things happened. Especially as they grew older.

But for Cheryl Blossom, it was enough. It was more than enough. It was the first breakthrough she had had in years. So Cheryl screamed and screamed and screamed. Even when Betty's eyelids were shut, when her lips were blue, and her skin had a deathly ombré shade to it. Cheryl leaned in close. So close she could just about feel Betty Cooper's shallow breath on her own face. She inhaled deeply and muttered a silent apology before her lips gently touched the tip of Betty's ear. It was ice cold. 

 Cheryl knew it _was_ wrong. She knew how twisted and disgusting  the crime was. But yet, even when she so desperately wanted to save them from a nightmare they were blissfully unaware of, a small piece of her wanted to leave them. Frozen in time. Four sixteen year old's the town had forgotten.Their parents had moved on, having been wiped too. The four of them had nobody but her. The girl responsible for their ugly fate. 

 Cheryl could never wake them up. They were like modern fairy tales. Four Sleeping Beauty’s. Except it would take much more than true love’s kiss to break the spell. To break the spell, she needed to screech. And after Betty Cooper’s spark of life, of momentary movement, Cheryl knew she could do it. She could break the spell. She needed to smash through the stubborn barrier that had been forced into place, blocking Betty Cooper’s mind from reality. From her matured sixteen year old body.

Cheryl Blossom opened her mouth, her chest clenching. Would this even work? She had to try. If not, they were trapped forever. Eternally stuck in the Summer of 2009. So, without hesitating, Cheryl imagined reaching inside the girl’s head and violently yanking Betty out of it. Cheryl screamed. And she didn't stop screaming until Betty Cooper’s eyes fluttered open.

 


	2. Worms are friends, not food.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s the 24th August, 2009 every day. Betty Cooper doesn't notice, until she hears the voice. And that’s when her world crashes and burns.  
> just four kids hanging out with a worm- Cheryl Blossom ruins it a lil tho.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betty Cooper, Archie Andrews, Veronica Lodge and Jughead Jones deserved better. RIP Steve the worm :’(  
> Is this a mistake writing this

Ten year old Betty Cooper hadn't noticed the sky had turned a tumultuous grey for the flicker of a second. None of them did. She didn't hear the voice either. It sounded like it was riding the wind. The words were _just_ audible. Cheryl Blossom’s screech managed to splinter through the two worlds; The Blossom basement, where four grown teenagers sat frozen in time, and the Summer of 2009. In Betty Cooper’s front garden. Betty didn't hear the voice, and even if she did, she ignored it. She dismissed it as the cool breeze rustling the trees.

Betty had been too busy meticulously scanning the daisy in her hand, anyway. It was far more interesting. Especially in the mind of a child. Betty had already picked each individual petal, and was staring down at the bare flower bud. She cupped it in the palm of her hands and shuffled uncomfortably. Betty was sitting cross-legged in her mother’s flowerbed, in the long white dress she had been repeatedly told not to wear. It was too late now. The dress was already smeared an array of different dark colours that Betty was pretty sure her mother wouldn't like. Betty sighed, fiddling with the seams of the dress. Her fingernails were already caked with dirt, which wasn't exactly helping. Veronica Lodge, in shorts and t-shirt and a hand-made flower crown of daisies twined through her silky dark hair sat opposite her. She was also sitting in the mound of dirt. The two girls had been pulling daisies from their bed, murdering the plants and threading them through each-other’s hair.

‘Your mommy's gonna kill you. ‘ Veronica grinned, giggling a little. Her eyes were on Betty’s dress.  Betty frowned and shrugged, before smiling brightly, showing off a recent visit from the tooth fairy.  ‘So?’ She grabbed a handful of dirt and smeared it all down the front of the dress. ‘It’s still pretty.’ Though when Betty looked around, she realized her mother really _was_ going to get mad. The four of them had decided to lounge in her garden. Though they had definitely taken “lounge” to the next level. They were spread out over Alice Cooper’s prize flowerbeds, their clothes, hair- pretty much 99.9% of them were covered in soil, after a measly attempt at looking for buried treasure. But the four of them had ended up going into their own little world’s as they lazily spread out in the dirt. As Betty pulled at plants and wove them through her and Veronica’s hair, she couldn't help daydreaming. The sky was a deep crystal blue, and the sun was so hot she had to take regular trip’s to the garden hose and douse herself in water. Though, mostly, the blazing sun made her feel really tired...

‘You’re right.’ Betty mumbled. She tipped her head back and studied the sky, scrutinizing it. Trying to find a cloud. There never seemed to be clouds.  ‘Mom is going to be mad.’

Veronica nodded. ‘Just tell her we were digging for treasure.’

Betty shook her blonde hair out of her face. She pulled out a few loose daisy’s nestled in her scalp. ‘Mom won’t understand. She shouted at Chic for over-watering them,’ she gestured to the massacred flowerbed and laughed nervously. ‘Ronnie, I'm so dead.’

‘Can you guys shush?’ Archie Andrews muttered. He was lying on his front next to Veronica, his red hair bedraggled, pale skin smeared with mud. He had his tongue stuck out strategically as his brown eyes zeroed in on a worm wiggling in the soil.  ‘I'm trying to scare the worm.’ He murmured. He studied the tiny creature, his lips stretching into a small smile. Betty cocked her head, and began to watch. The worm was pushing itself through the soil. Clearly very aware of the threat that was Archie Andrews. His dirty hands were already pouncing like claws, intending on grabbing the worm and either pulling it apart, or burying it deep under the flowerbed. Betty frowned, fiddling with the flowers braided through her hair. ‘Don’t kill the worm.’ She mumbled. ‘What did he ever do to you?’

‘M ’not gonna.’ Archie muttered. But he was using the point of his fingernail, hovering above the worm. He had a playful smirk on his face. The worm spasmed and curled into itself and the red-head let out a squeak of exhilaration. Archie jumped back, and Veronica smirked. ‘Are you scared of worms, Archie?’ She teased. The boy shook his head, his red hair settling over his eyes. ‘No!’ he insisted. Then he hesitantly leaned forward bravely.

Betty twisted her head to grin at Veronica. The girl was watching Archie, her head cocked, her lips twisted in amusement. Archie was hovering right over the worm, his brown eyes wide and focused. ‘Who dares me to eat it?’ He murmured, his gaze following the insect’s movements. Betty laughed. ‘Ew, no!’ But Veronica nodded excitedly. ‘I dare you, Andrews.’

'Can we look for buried treasure again?’ Jughead mumbled. He was lying next to the red-head. He had been snoozing in the dirt, since his attempt at finding buried treasure didn't work out. He lifted his head, his eyes half-shut, dark hair a straggly mess across his forehead. ‘Wait, eat what?’ His eyes sparkled with excitement. Jughead loved Alice Cooper’s homemade cupcakes. He and Archie were in exactly the same position and were part-way through a boisterous nudging match where they'd prod their bare feet at each other.

Archie grinned. ‘Mr worm.’ He gestured to the creature going about its daily life, unaware of the children’s evil plotting.

Though when Jughead saw Archie about to massacre the worm, he scowled,  jumping into action and grabbed for it before the other boy could capture the little thing. He cupped  it protectively and Archie let out a cry. 'Hey! That's my worm!'

Jughead sat up, closing the little worm in his cupped hands. 'It doesn't have your name on it.' He muttered stubbornly. 'Besides, you were going to eat it!'

Archie folded his arms across his dirty batman t-shirt. 'I was just looking at it!' He protested. But Jughead was grinning. 'Worm murderer.' he accused, with a sneaky smile. Archie shoved him. ‘I’m not a worm murderer.’ He mumbled, pulling a face. Betty giggled.  Jughead stood up slowly, still with the worm in his cupped hands. ‘I'm gonna go put him somewhere safe.’

Archie stood up too, dusting down his shirt. ‘He?’ The boy’s expression brightened. ‘Wait, you’re naming it? I found it first, why can’t I name it?’

‘You were going to eat it, Archie!’ Betty cut in, laughing. Archie huffed a little. ‘But it’s my worm. I found it.’ He glared at the little thing in Jughead’s hands.

Jughead suddenly seemed very protective of the worm.  ‘His name is Steve.’ He declared. Betty nodded. ‘I like that name.’ She smiled. She watched the dark haired boy tickle his index finger over the wiggling form. She inwardly squirmed, but the four of them needed some kind of mascot. Steve was perfect.  Veronica, who was fiddling with her hair, nodded too in agreement. She had sat up and was delicately placing daisy heads on her bare knees stretched out in front of her. ‘Can’t we give it a girls name, though?’

Jughead shook his head, pulling a face. ‘No, his name is Steve.’ He muttered. ‘I'm gonna make him a little house and hide him under my bed.’

Betty liked the sound of that. ‘He’s our new mascot.’ She smiled.

Archie curled his lip, pouting. ‘But can’t we keep him under my bed?’ He moaned, and Jughead giggled. ‘Because we can’t trust you, Arch.’

The redhead folded his arms. ‘I'm telling my dad.’ He mumbled. ‘I found the worm, so I should be aloud to took after him.’

‘Can’t it be a her?’ Veronica spoke up. ‘I like the name Ruby.’ She grinned at Betty. ‘Ruby the worm.’

‘No, it’s clearly a boy.’ Jughead was still nursing the worm. Though Veronica wasn't one to back down. She had recently moved to Riverdale, and joined Archie, Betty and Jughead, becoming their fourth Musketeer. ‘Then make it the first ever female worm.’ She said.

Betty had been so busy caught up in her best friend’s mini confrontation, that she failed to notice the voice once again whispering in her ears. _Betty._ It said. Repeatedly. _‘Betty, please. Oh god, please wake up! Betty, can you hear me?!_

But Betty turned blissfully ignorant to the cry. The voice hadn't quite crashed through the barrier just yet. Instead, it was meandering on the edge.

 She smiled up at her friends, who were still arguing about the worm. ‘Can we at least call it something cool?’ Archie’s voice was rising a little. Though his lips were stretched into a dimpled grin. ‘Steve sounds so lame!’

‘Your name is lame, Archie.’ Jughead shot a smirk at the red-head, who stuck his tongue out at the other boy. ‘I think Steve is asleep.’ Jughead murmured, his eyes on the worm still wiggling in his hands. Archie peered at it. ‘Maybe you should let it go, Juggie. It probably has a family.’ he murmured. But Jughead shook his head. ‘No, I want to play with him!’

‘It’s a her!’ Veronica insisted. ‘Right Betty?’

Betty shrugged. She liked both names. ‘Why don’t we mix the names?’ She suggested.

‘No, he’s called Steve.’ Jughead made it official. He ran inside the Cooper’s house and grabbed a shoebox and a pen. The four of them set the box on the ground, filled it with grass and dirt, and Jughead slowly deposited Steve into his new home. Even Veronica was smiling. Though she pulled a face when Jughead asked if she wanted to hold him.

‘Do you want to write his name on the box?’ Jughead passed the biro to Archie, who nodded with an excited grin. Before he scrawled  S T E V E  in block capitals on the side of the box.

Jughead automatically scoped the worm from his bed of grass, once again cupping Steve in his hands. Archie frowned. ‘Hey, I wanna hold him.’

‘Wait your turn,’ Jughead mumbled. He seemed fascinated by the little insect.  

‘Fine, we’ll all play with him.’ Archie lay down on his front, grabbing Jughead’s arm and yanking him onto his stomach too. ‘Be careful!’ Jughead squeaked. ‘You nearly made me drop him!’

Veronica sighed. ‘Can we just put Steve back in his house? I bet he’s tired.’ Jughead nodded, and placed the worm carefully back into the box. He cocked his head with a frown.

‘What do we feed it?’

‘I think they eat soil.’ Veronica murmured matter-of-factly. ‘There’s nutrients in the grains.’

Betty leaned forward on her knees. The worm grossed her out, but Archie and Jughead- or at least Jughead, looked completely smitten with the little thing. The four of them ended up watching the worm silently, as it wriggled in the box, and when Jughead couldn't seem to control himself and kept scooping it up once again- in Jughead’s palm. They sat bunched together, their heads pressed together over the box as they studied Steve’s movements.

‘Hey guys! What are you doing?’

  _Something about that voice. It sent chills down Betty’s spine. But not her ten year old self. Instead, her present sixteen year old self shivered. Not just Betty. For the fraction of a second, Veronica jolted a little too. Archie and Jughead let out twin gasps of breath._

Betty jumped at the familiar voice, and she lifted her head, tearing her gaze away from the worm. Cheryl Blossom was standing over them, holding a tray of drinks. She smiled brightly at them. Cheryl’s red hair was tied in loose pigtails. She was wearing a long flowing dress and a tiara on her head. Betty giggled a little. Cheryl was what her mother would call a “Drama Queen” Her mother had repeatedly warned her not to play with the red haired girl.

‘Look who it is,’ Jughead muttered. ‘Princess Cheryl.’ Archie had to bow his head, his mop of red hair falling in his eyes to hide his smile. Though Cheryl seemed to ignore them. She grinned brightly at the four kids. ‘You’re all dirty!’ she giggled. ‘Are you playing in the mud?’

‘Clearly.’ Jughead murmured. He  picked up Steve’s box and clutched it to his chest.

  Cheryl nodded. ‘Are you guys thirsty?’ She squeaked happily. ‘My mom made Lemonade.’ She smiled at them, and Betty resisted the urge to exchange looks with the others, who straightened up, turning away from the box in Jughead’s embrace.  Betty smiled at the girl. But it was a fake grin she copied from Veronica. Betty suddenly felt very territorial. She didn't want to share Steve the worm with the strange girl. And she was pretty sure the others didn't want to either. Jughead wasn't doing a good job of hiding his scowl.

Betty knew it was mean, but Cheryl brought it on herself. The girl was super rich and had no friends at school, and was constantly badgering them to be the fifth Musketeer. Veronica and Jughead thought she was weird full-stop. Betty caught them smirking at each other at the corner of her eye. Archie, however, was far too nice to tell her to go away. He smiled at her, dimples expanding. ‘Hey Cheryl!’ He grinned, eyes sparkling. ‘What are you doing here?’ He meant it to sound polite, but the girl’s eyes darkened a little. Her little hands tightened around the tray in her hands. ‘You’re always here.’ She replied softly.

Archie nodded. ‘But this is Betty’s garden.’ He said, giggling. Betty loved Archie’s laugh. His whole face lit up with his smile.  ‘Are you aloud to be here, Cheryl?’

The girl nodded, a bit too desperately. ‘Do you guys want some lemonade?’ Her eyes glinted with something Betty couldn't understand. ‘I've already given some to Kevin and Reggie.’

 _Liar, Liar, pants on fire._ Betty thought. Kevin Keller, the sheriff’s son didn't like Cheryl either. He was a trainee Musketeer, also a good friend of Archie’s. But not a best friend. Like her, Veronica and Jughead. Kevin hung out with them lot. But he was on Holiday with his aunt.  As for Reggie, he  liked to spread rumours around school that Cheryl had cooties.

Plus, the tray only looked big enough to hold four glasses.

 Jughead leaned into Archie. He had a smirk on his face that was almost impossible to ignore. Betty always found herself laughing at the boy. ‘I thought you told her we were at the park!’ He hissed in Archie’s ear. Not so discreetly. Veronica choked out a laugh.

 Betty thought the girl might notice their hints that they didn't like her at all. But Cheryl just smiled hopefully at them. Betty eyed the small tray she was holding. The four glasses were filled to the brim with fizzy soda. She couldn't help her mouth watering.

‘So...’ Cheryl shuffled uncomfortably on the spot. Her smile was becoming progressively more strained.  The tray of drinks wobbled slightly. ‘Can I play with you guys?’

Betty knew none of them wanted her to join in. She could already see Jughead jumping up and pretending he felt ill or his dinner was ready and slunking home, taking Steve with him. Archie shrugged, still smiling. ‘Sure!’ He grinned, sending a sly smile to Jughead. The girl had lemonade that looked amazing. Betty hadn't had a drink since breakfast. She figured Archie would allow Cheryl to join in, so they could all drink the soda, and then he’d make some excuse that they had to go swimming, or something. Then they would all make a dash for it.

Cheryl grinned excitedly and sat down with the tray, joining their little circle. She started to hand around the drinks, and Betty practically snatched her own glass and started to glug it down, not even giving time for her to taste the tangy sweetness dribbling down her throat. She held the glass, cringing when her teeth clinked against the edge. But It was so refreshing, she didn't care.  it tasted amazing. Jughead and Veronica, as much as they disliked Cheryl, couldn't say no to a free glass of lemonade. Especially when the weather was so hot you could fry an egg on the side-walk. Jughead sat cross-legged, with Steve’s little house sitting in his lap. Veronica and Archie sat, silently drinking their glasses. Cheryl smiled brightly as the four of them gulped greedily. Betty drank half of her glass, turning her gaze to Cheryl. ‘Do you not have one?’ She had half a mind to offer the girl the other half of her glass. Though the red headed girl shook her head. ‘I've already had too much.’ She giggled.

Betty nodded with a smile. ‘Okay.’ She murmured. Cheryl grinned, making her feel a little uneasy. When the others had finished, Cheryl jumped up excitedly. ‘Do you guys wanna come back to my house?’ Her eyes were far too wide, her smile too big to be genuine. It reminded Betty of the fake smiles she and Veronica painted on their faces, when they pretended to be Cheryl’s friend. Cheryl looked almost smug. ‘I have a new dollhouse.’

Archie, who had leant backwards on his elbows, smirked. ‘Dolls?’ He set his glass down. ‘Aren't you a little old for dolls?’

Veronica nodded. ‘Yeah, my mom put mine away ages ago.’ She teased. Betty watched Cheryl’s face fall, and part of her wanted to reassure the girl that she too still played with her dolls. But the sudden look on the girl’s face choked the words at the back of her throat. ‘I have a feeling you’ll play with me.’ Cheryl giggled, her gaze on the ground. Cheryl started yanking grass out of the ground and piling it up. She lifted her head then, her bright green eyes scanning them individually and both ten year old Betty and present Betty shivered. Her tummy had started to feel strange. When she glanced up at the sky, the sun was suddenly far too bright. The rays hurt her eyes. Betty ducked her head, and instantly, the garden around her seemed to...spin. The sky turned a mixture of different colours, and Betty felt her limbs weaken. She sat up abruptly, panicking. The lemonade was suddenly acidic, climbing back up her throat. ‘I don’t feel so good.’ She whimpered. But when she looked around, her heart spiked. The others were lying down on the grass. Though it wasn't like when they cloud-watched together, or looked at the stars. Archie, Jughead and Veronica weren't moving.  The three of them looked like had simply fallen backward and gone to sleep. Betty rubbed the back of her head feverishly. She really didn't feel so good. ‘Mom?’ She tried crying out for her mother, her default go-to when something went wrong. But the words wouldn't form in her throat. When she cried out, trying to scream, there was no noise. Instead, Betty felt completely frozen. That was until she too simply fell back, her body crashing onto her back. She didn't feel the pain, but the breath was knocked out of her. She gasped for breath, and was only able to stare up at the sky, at the trees, which seemed unperturbed by the whole thing. Betty was vaguely aware of Cheryl Blossom slowly making her way around the four kids, bending over and checking them.

‘Don’t worry guys,’ Cheryl murmured. She crouched next to Archie. ‘My mommy and daddy said you’ll be able to play with me forever.’ The girl paused. ‘In my dollhouse.’

 _She really is a witch_. That was all Betty could think, her thoughts flailing. The four of them had an inside joke that The Blossom family were witches. Betty turned her head, feeling her hair drag across the grass slowly. She found herself watching Jughead, who was lying next to Archie. When he had fallen, he had dropped the little box. His pet worm’s house. It lay next to him, still undisturbed. Though Betty’s heart skipped into her throat when Cheryl kicked the box, hard. It tipped onto its side, spilling its contents out into the grass and dirt.

‘Cheryl.’ Betty tried to speak. But her lips were numb. She gazed at the sky, silently crying out for her mother. For Polly and Chic. _Betty!_ The voice startled her a little, and this time, she listened, as she stared up at the trees, her gaze stuck to the branches. The leaves were falling at a rapid rate. Betty blinked slowly, and a sudden gust of wind blew her hair from her face, it attacked the leaves, sending them in a whirlwind. But the leaves seemed to grow bigger, and started to take shape into something entirely else. Betty watched, baffled, as the shapes started to fall. Paper. Her older, mature mind managed to regain control for a second. _Those are posters, Betty. Look!_ And ten year old Betty finally did.

The posters whipping around in the wind, flapping in her face, flying around her like a flock of birds. Betty caught words on the paper. Names. Images.

_Betty! Betty, are you awake? Oh god, you can hear me. Open your eyes, Betty!_

Betty knew she was falling. She felt her body start to sink through the dirt and grass. Though she wasn't scared. She was curious. She raised her arm and plucked one of the sheets of paper from the vicious hurricane swirling above her. She held it in front of her. Some of the words didn't make sense. But she saw the word **MISSING**. And a picture of her.

**HAVE YOU SEEN THIS GIRL?**

Then she heard her mother’s voice. Frightened and panicked. Shadows danced across her vision in the shape of Alice Cooper and Fred Andrews as they darted around, shouting their kid’s names. ‘Oh god, Elizabeth?!’ Alice was screaming, and just the tone made Betty want to cover her ears and block it out. ‘Betty, where are you?!’ the women was crying.

But then there was a flash of light in front of Betty’s eyes, and in a single moment,  Alice Cooper’s terrified cry for her daughter was replaced by casual chatter. There was no mention of her. Her mother sounded different. ‘ _Yeah, Polly’s doing well, thanks Fred!’_

Then Fred Andrews’s voice; ‘I've thought about having a kid. Too much work.’ He laughed.

‘No.’ Betty whispered. ‘No, mom, I'm here.’ She could only whimper.

Betty started to cry. The voice was louder in her ears. This time sixteen-year-old Cheryl Blossom successfully managed to break through the barrier. _Open your eyes. Betty!_

 But Betty was too busy crying out in her own head. Mom? She cried. Mr Andrews?! The flurry of paper had vanished, morphing into a cyclone of dead leaves swirling above her once again. And there was little Cheryl Blossom’s face as she bent over Betty, her red pigtails dangling. Betty wanted to cry and scream in the girl’s face.

‘Don’t cry, Betty.’ Cheryl smiled sweetly. She was dangling something in front of her face, and Betty swallowed a cry when she realized it was Steve. Well, half of him. Cheryl dangled the worm teasingly. ’Don’t be afraid.’ She mumbled, happily. Cheryl leaned forward with a giggle. She flicked the worm away, and Betty felt part of herself splinter into two.

 ‘I look after my dolls,’ Cheryl murmured, smiling.  ‘I promise.’

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think! :D leave Kudos and a comment if you liked. Thanks for the feedback so far! :D


	3. Awaken.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cheryl's dolls finally break free of the spell, and Betty and Jughead share a reunion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At work today, I couldn't stop thinking about this fic. I have great idea's for chapters ahead.. Hope you enjoy :D

Betty was screaming. It took her a moment to realize that she could speak, she could cry. She could scream again. But the world around her had twisted. She had found herself sitting in the flowerbeds once more, daisies in the palm of her hands. Betty’s head shot up, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. ‘Betty?’ Veronica was knelt next to her, and Betty remembered. She remembered that this had already happened. ‘Are you okay?’ Veronica’s voice was wary as she fiddled with long strands of her dark hair. Betty turned to stare at the girl,  her eyes wide. She had already seen this. All of this had already happened.

The posters that had rained from the sky, transforming from straying dead leaves. She had seen names on them. Images. Elizabeth Cooper, Archie Andrews, Jughead Jones and Veronica Lodge. Ten year old Betty was confused. How could she be missing?

She was in her own front yard. She had seen her mother this morning, they had eaten breakfast. And then the day before. Breakfast had been orange juice and pancakes. Her mother had hugged her goodbye before work. ‘ _Elizabeth, do not wear that dress.’_

And the day before? Pancakes. Juice. _‘Don’t wear the dress._

The realization hit her, managing to splinter through the barrier once again, jolting her present self slowly but surely back to consciousness. She had been living the same day, over and over again. And it ended like it did every time. Cheryl Blossom standing over her.

‘ _I’ll look after you, I promise.’_ The girl murmured, every time. Before Betty was send straight back to 9am. Breakfast. Juice. Don’t wear the dress. But something had changed in the algorithm. Something was different. Because both present and ten-year-old Betty were now aware. They were aware of the time-loop, aware of Cheryl’s plan. And as sixteen-year-old-Betty was beginning to stir, her skin slowly starting to turn back to normal, the weight on her lids loosening, the stitches fastening her lips together coming undone. Ten year old Betty began to see through into the real world. The Missing person's posters. Cheryl’s voice.

‘Betty?’ Veronica murmured, softly. ‘Are you crying?’ Betty lifted a hand and tenderly touched her cheek, feeling the wetness trickling down her cheeks. She _was_ crying.

Sixteen-year-old Betty Cooper was waking up. And it started with ten year old Betty regaining self awareness. Betty stared at Veronica, but couldn’t seem to speak.

Betty’s head was spinning, her thoughts all over the place. She was in exactly the same position, sitting in her mother’s garden. The sun was shining, painfully bright. The sky was a deep crystal blue. She still felt the tickle of the grass and daisy’s covering her bare legs.

 Veronica had been threading flowers through her hair, just like she was now. Archie and Jughead were lying in the dirt, again. In the same position.  Archie’s gaze was on the mounds of soil, seeking out worms, while Jughead’s head was in his arms, snoozing in Alice Cooper’s flowerbed. Betty felt herself start to panic. She sat very still and clenched her fists in her lap. Slowly crushing the daisies in her hand. 'No.’ She whispered, to Veronica’s question.

 Then, before Veronica could reply, Betty was crawling forwards in the dirt, digging into the soil with her fingernails. All she could think about was the flutter of papers. No they were posters. With her name on them. She could still feel the flapping of the papers in her face, the wind sweeping her hair with Jughead, Veronica and Archie unconscious around her.

 _‘I’ll look after my dolls,’_ Cheryl had said, spitefully. Betty felt her heart flutter. She felt- different. Childish curiosity overwhelmed her. But she had to bite back the urge to call her mother. A mother who had- called for her. Cried and screamed for her.

‘ _So close, Betty.’_ The voice murmured in her ears. It was louder, less faded and inaudible. It was a girl. A girl who she didn't recognize. Yet, part of her _did_ recognise her.

Betty was trembling as she dug into the soil, her hands shaking. Archie sat up, along with Jughead. ‘Betts?’ Jughead giggled a little nervously. ‘What’s wrong?’ He leaned forward, kneeling in the dirt. Archie nodded, frowning. ‘Are you looking for buried treasure again?’

Betty didn't stop digging. She wasn't sure what she digging for, but she knew there was _something_ wrong. ‘There are...’ Her voice was choked as she clawed into the soil. ‘There are missing posters,’ she hissed. ‘Guys, there are Missing Posters with our names on them.’

Jughead joined her, and started to dig too. ‘Is this a game?’ he giggled. But Betty shook her head profusely. ‘No!’ She cried. She sniffed hard, continuing to rake the soil. Eventually, she turned to the others- who were crowded around her looking worried. Betty stared at the three of them, their eyes wide with curiosity and confusion. ‘It sounds stupid,’ she started to say, her eyes focused on the dirt as she dug deeper. ‘But- I think there’s something buried here.’ She whispered. Then she elaborated. ‘I think..’ she bit her lip. ‘I think we’re missing.’

Archie cocked his head. ‘Missing?’ He frowned. ‘You mean like on the TV?’

Betty shook her head. Her hands paused in the dirt, and she grabbed a clump of soil and fiddled with it, digging into it with her nails. ‘No, we’re _really_ missing. ‘ She said softly. Then she turned her head to look at her friends. ‘Do you remember what happened yesterday?’

'Yesterday?' Veronica frowned. 'What do you mean? Why?'

Betty sighed. 'Just...' she looked the dark haired girl dead in the eye. 'Just tell me you what you did yesterday.' She repeated softly. And Veronica looked baffled. But she started to answer. 'My dad's gone out of town, so I spent some time with him in the morning, and then in the afternoon, I came here.'

Betty nodded. 'Isn't that what happened today, Ronnie? You and Archie showed up with ice-cream, Juggie came around and then we played in the garden.'

Veronica didn't say anything, but she nodded silently. She was no longer smiling. But Betty was determined to figure out the truth. She looked at Archie, who's eyebrows were knotted together in confusion. He too looked like he was trying to remember what happened yesterday. 'Archie, what about you?' Betty asked softly, her gaze flitting from him to Jughead. 'Juggie? Can you guys tell me what you did yesterday?'

Jughead nodded slowly, but his eyes were wide with alarm. 'I woke up late, because dad sucks at waking me up, and then he made me breakfast, and I went over to Archie's, to-' He too trailed off. 'But that...that was today.'

Betty only nodded in understanding. Jughead inhaled shakily, before he too started to rake the dirt with his fingernails. 'What are we looking for?' He asked, his voice quaking. Archie and Veronica joined in, also motivated by their sudden realisations. The four of them leaned in the mound of dirt and got to work digging, following Betty's order of just scooping into the earth until they found something.

'So, what...' Archie spoke up, as he and the others raked into the dirt. There was a vastly growing pile of soil as they got into it. 'You think we're stuck in Groundhog Day?'

Betty frowned. 'What's that?' She fiddled with strands of her honey blonde hair, smearing dirt all over her face in the process. Archie shrugged. 'It's a film I've watched with my dad. It's about a man who lives the same day over and over again.'

Betty considered for a second. 'Yeah, like that.' she murmured, digging into the earth again. Veronica exhaled softly. 'You're scaring me, Betty.' she said weakly, pausing in the digging. 'But as stupid as you sound, you're right. I-' The girl pressed a filthy palm to her forehead. 'Every time I think about what happened yesterday, It's like...' her voice was shaking. 'It's like all I can remember is today.'

Jughead shivered. 'I'm really creeped out by this.' He whispered. Betty grabbed his arm. 'It's gonna be okay.' She murmured. But right then, she wasn't sure if it was.

Finally, Veronica let out quiet squeak and pawed in the dirt. 'I see something!' She murmured. Betty followed her gaze, and the girl was right.

Meanwhile, in the present, Veronica Lodge let out her second gasp for breath, and her closed eyelids twitched, her mouth was tightly shut, but words started to claw at her throat, as Ten-year-old Veronica finally made a connection with her sixteen-year-old self.

There were specks of white in the soil. When Betty grabbed them, she ended up pulling out bits of paper matted together. They looked years old, as if they had been buried in the ground for a long time. The ink had long since faded and the images were barely decipherable, but she could just about make out the words **M I S S I NG.** The four of them leaned forward as Betty pulled at the mass of paper glued together, decaying pages brown with age.  But they could still see the writing scrawled in block capitals over the front. On every piece there was a different name. A different image. But it was very clearly them in the photographs. Pictures of them when they were little, up to their most recent ones.

Archie was grabbing at the ones with his name on, and he was peering at them, trying to find a mistake, that it wasn't him. But his efforts were fruitless. The images were clearly of him. His name was written in sharp block capitals on every piece. He sat back and bunched his fists into his eyes, breathing heavily. 'I want my dad.' He said softly, and then stood up shakily. 'I'm...I'm gonna go home.' He wiped at his eyes. Archie had always been a cry-baby. At least that’s what Jughead called him when they were teasing each other.

'Archie, Wait..' Jughead grasped for the boy's hand, but the red head shook him off. 'No, I...I really want to go home.' His lip was quivering. He started to back away, stumbling a little, when a voice pierced through the silence, and Betty felt herself stiffen. Cheryl. All heads turned in the direction of the girl who was standing over them. She was wearing the exact same dress, her hair in pigtails - and she was holding the tray of lemonade.

Something snapped in Betty’s mind. Her vision was cloudy, distorted. When she looked down at herself, she saw her dress- ragged and torn. Smeared an array of colours.

'Go away.' Betty said softly. She felt something pulse through her, an emotion that startled  her. Cheryl frowned, her eyes darkening. 'Betty?' She laughed nervously. 'What's wrong?'

But Betty was already jumping up and facing the girl. Jughead got up too, and reached for her, but Betty yanked her arm away from him. 'Get off me!' She shrieked, before she grabbed the tray of drinks from Cheryl and threw them across the garden.  Veronica and Archie let out twin cries. ‘Betty!’ But she ignored them. None of this was real.

 _Betty! Betty Cooper, can you hear me?_ Suddenly the voice was crashing into her, sending shock-waves through her. But the voice wasn't coming from a startled Veronica or Jughead’s mouth, or even Cheryl- who stood, frozen. Her hand still clutching mid air where the tray had been. Instead, the voice was rooted inside her head. And it was crying out to her.

 **Not real.** She thought, watching the colourful glasses of soda whizz through the air in slow-motion before landing with a crash on the ground.

 **Not real.** Betty squeezed her eyes shut and clamped her hands over her ears. She ignored her friends, who were crowding around her. Archie’s worried cry, Veronica’s arms wrapped around her, the girl’s gentle voice drowned out. ‘Betty, why did you do that?’

**Not real, not real. Not real.**

 Betty Cooper opened her mouth and screamed. Her own cry frightened her, but the world began to spin once again, tipping and diving, until she was somewhere else entirely. Stuck in the void between the two worlds. But she screamed louder, even without a voice. Without a mouth. She screamed until she felt the barrier in her head splinter and crack open, and then she lost her footing and could no longer feel the grass tickling her bare feet, the sun scorching her skin. Instead, Betty felt herself be yanked back by an unknown force, so powerful it drew breath from her lungs. But she felt- strange. Her chest ached, like she hadn't used it in a while. Her senses seemed to return, but all she got was that it was freezing cold. Her whole body felt numb. She couldn't feel her arms, her legs, any of her limbs. She tried to cry, but her eyes felt like they were glued shut. Betty could suddenly feel the cold concrete beneath her, brushing her bare feet. She sucked in a breath of air, her mouth and lips bone dry. But she wasn't the only one. She heard simultaneous gasps all around her. But she didn't recognise them. They sounded- older. Much older than her.

'Betty?' The voice again. But this time it felt so close. She felt their breath in her ear. 'Oh my god, you're awake!'  She sensed movement, and then the voice sounded again. Except this time their breath tickled her face. Betty flinched, and then felt her eyes flutter open. First, there was darkness. A black hole she felt she would never get out of. But then; colour. Her vision cleared as she blinked rapidly. There was a face right in front of her.

Betty jumped back. Well, she meant to. But something tied her down, which set panic in her heart. It took her a moment for her mind to sync with her body. There was a girl kneeling in front of her. A teenage girl with long red hair and bright red lipstick. Betty felt frustration build up inside her. She had managed to escape the ‘Groundhog Day’ as Archie called it, yet still...things made no sense. The girl wasn’t smiling. Her eyes looked sad. Haunted, even. Betty tried to use her mouth, but it was like the mechanisms in her lips no longer worked.

‘Betty.’ The girl whispered softly. She leaned forward, and Betty cringed at the feeling of the girl’s hair dangling in her face.  The girl took a deep breath- something Bettys mom did when she was upset or mad. But the girl just looked lost- like she didn’t know what to say.

‘Betty, can you hear me?’ She murmured.  Betty realized the girl was holding something black and rectangular to her ear. Phone. Betty’s mind supplied. But it looked better than anything she had ever seen. ‘Cooper’s awake. Well they’re all awake. The others are just unconscious. But Cooper?’ The girl’s gaze flicked to her. ‘She’s opened her eyes.’ She murmured, almost dreamily. Then to Betty; ‘Betty, can you nod if you can hear me?’

Betty considered refusing, but nodded slowly. Her neck ached. Everything ached. The girl smiled softly, pulling the phone away from her ear for a second. ‘Yes, I know that, Kevin.’ She muttered, and Betty’s heart soared. _Kevin._ Kevin Keller? Why was this random teenage girl talking to a kid her age?  The girl sighed. ‘Just get here quickly, okay? My parents are on their way home, and if they find out...’  The girl let out a hiss of frustration. ‘They’re just some drugged kids I found at a party! Just get here, Keller. Pronto.’ The girl shoved the phone into her jacket and refocused her gaze on Betty. Her expression softened. ‘Okay, now I need you to stay calm, okay? Don’t freak out on me.’ She said.

Betty stared at the girl. The words;   _Where’s my mommy?_   Were in her throat, but somehow they just didn't correspond with her tongue. She only managed to make a few gasping noises. The girl nodded in understanding. ‘Take your time, Betty. It’ll take a little while for your speech to come back.’

Betty felt a shiver run down her spine. ‘Who are you?’ She whispered. To her surprise, a voice did come out of her mouth. But it wasn't _hers_. It sounded older. Less squeaky and girlish. It immediately put Betty on edge, but the girl cleared her throat. ‘Cheryl.’ She said, her expression darkening. ‘Betty, it’s me. It’s Cheryl.’

The words were seeping from her lips before she could stop them; ‘But Cheryl’s my age.’ She said softly. Her words were childish, still coming from the mind of a ten year old. But her voice was much deeper, much older- and much more terrifying. Cheryl nodded. ‘I grew up,’ she said softly, and then her green-flecked gaze flickered to Betty. ‘And so did you.’

Betty frowned. She had another question on her lips, followed by the burning desire to demand where her mother was, but she was interrupted by a sharp intake of breath. ‘What’s going on?’ It sounded like a teenage boy, and he felt- close. Like he was right behind her. Betty watched the girl- or ‘”Cheryl’s” expression light up. ‘What’s..?’ The boy grunted with effort, and Betty felt herself jolt backwards when the boy must have lunged forwards.  And it hit her automatically. She was tied to him. She couldn't help herself. ‘Hello?’ she whimpered. ‘Who...’ she started to cry, tears trailing down her cheeks. ‘Who are you? Where’s my mommy?’ Then she glared at the girl. ‘You’re not Cheryl!’ she squeaked. ‘Stop pretending and let me go!’ Betty let out a huff of breath, startled by her own voice as it rose to the point of hysteria. She sounded just like her older sister Polly.

‘Wait,’ The teenage boy spoke again, and Betty felt fear clench her heart. She couldn't understand why they were tied together. Like on the films. She silently cried out for Jughead, Archie and Veronica. ‘Cheryl?’ The boy hissed. ‘But- but you can’t be Cheryl, she’s in my class...she’s my age!’ he cried out. Betty suddenly sympathised with him. He was clearly as scared as her. But then she went over the words he had spoken in her head, and her mind spun. The boy said Cheryl was his age too. Which surely was true.

The red headed girl or Cheryl, pursed her lips. ‘Look, It’s a really long story,’ she said softly. ‘Okay, to put it in the simplest way...’ she trailed off. ‘You've been asleep for a long time.’

‘How long? Like a few days?’ The boy demanded. ‘Where’s-‘ his voice squeaked a little. ‘Where’s my dad?’ he took a breath. ‘Where are Archie and Betty?’

Betty felt her breath catch in her throat. He knew her? She opened her mouth to say something back, but Cheryl interrupted her, and the words slammed into her, like a tumultuous wave of icy water.  ‘They’re right here around you.’ Cheryl murmured. ‘Jughead, I know you’re scared and confused, but you have to listen to me okay?’

 _No._ Betty felt her whole body freeze. The boy couldn't be Jughead. Her Jughead Jones. He was ten years old, like her- he was a little kid- like...like her. The boy let out a choked sob. ‘Betty?’ He whispered, and Betty got a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach- something she had never felt before. She ducked her head, squeezing her eyes shut. ‘That’s...’ He trailed off,  laughing a little nervously, and Betty shivered. Everything about the boy; the way he talked, his nervous giggle. It was everything Jughead Jones was.

‘‘That’s not you is it?’ He whispered. His voice broke a little. ‘Betty, Is that really you?’

‘It’s her, alright.’ Cheryl cut in. ‘Look, we don’t have the luxury of time, right now. You guys, Archie and Veronica were put under a spell when you were ten years old- and now you’re out of it. It’s been five years, and all four of you are technically sixteen years old.' Jughead let out a startled breath. 'Huh?!' 

‘Moving on, before you guys can fully process this bullshit,’ Cheryl continued. ‘My parents want you under the spell forever. Something about sustaining youth, or whatever. It’s fucking creepy. Now, you two need to work with me here and get the other two outside. Kevin is going to take you some-place safe. He doesn't know who you are- he just thinks you’re a couple of boozy teens I picked up for an orgy-‘

 _An orange what?_ Part of Betty’s mind hissed, but the majority of it was trying to get her head around Cheryl’s words. She listed them in her head like she did in school.

**Spell, sleep, Sixteen-years old, Jughead, Archie, Veronica.**

Jughead cut in at just the right moment. When Betty was starting to experience her first ever panic attack. She felt her lungs clench, and suddenly she could barely breathe. She felt the ropes tighten around her wrists. ‘Sixteen?!’ Jughead cried. ‘I'm- I'm _sixteen_ -years old?!’

Cheryl sighed. ‘I thought we covered that!’ she hissed. ‘Why aren't Lodge and Andrews waking up?’

Betty leaned forward in her chair, trying to breathe. Lodge. Andrews. Archie and Veronica. Who were also tied to her, and were in fact sixteen-years old like her. She felt Jughead pressed against her. He stiffened. ‘What was that?’ He whimpered. Betty thought he was hearing things, before she too heard the _clang_ of something slamming. That was at the exact time a male cry nearly catapulted Betty into a breakdown. But she forced it down and chewed hard on her lip, trying to ignore the sudden struggling movements jolting her in different directions.

‘Dad?’ It was another teenage boy, but his manly voice didn't match the childish cry for his father.  Betty felt her heart start to race.  His voice was different, like Jughead. But she’d recognize that babyish wail from anywhere. Even from five years ago. Archie.

Cheryl paled. She looked Betty directly in the eye. ‘Close your eyes and don’t move.’ She said softly, addressing the others also.  ‘Don’t blink, don’t breathe- just whatever you do. Stay. Fucking. Still.’ Cheryl started to panic. ‘You've still got the blue-ish aura stuck to you from the spell, so as long as none of you move a muscle- you’re good. Just don’t open your eyes and whatever you do, don’t flinch.’ Cheryl instructed, her voice in a hissed whisper. ‘Any movement will give you away. If I have any chance of saving you guys, you have to act like you’re still under the spell.'

Betty felt like her chest was going to explode, but she squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself to stop trembling. The sound of footsteps descending a staircase sent her heart into a frenzy. ‘I don’t- oh god, what’s happening?!’ Archie sobbed. Jughead sounded like his teeth were gritted. Betty imagined his eyes were also tightly shut.

‘Archie.’ He said. ‘Shut up.’

‘Jughead?!’

Though whatever reunion the boy’s were about to have was cut short by a familiar voice. Cheryl’s mother. Penelope Blossom. Betty fought to stay as still as she could, even when the woman’s words sent shivers down her spine. They even got a startled breath from Jughead and a soft moan from Archie.

‘Cheryl, dear!’ Penelope greeted her daughter. ‘How are your dolls?’

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me if you guys are reading! I think I'm more excited writing this then you guys are reading lmao. Leave Kudos and a comment telling me what you think if you would like more!:D Poor Veronica.... did something go wrong? *wink face*


	4. Road-trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kevin Keller saves the day.

_How are your dolls._

Penelope Blossom's words were like daggers through Betty Cooper's heart.

Dolls. She was nothing more than a doll. A plaything in sixteen-year-old Cheryl Blossom's collection. But she wasn’t alone. Her best friends were with her; Archie, Jughead and Veronica. Betty felt like screaming. Her throat felt like it was in on fire. She felt Jughead and Archie tense against her.

They were dolls. Betty felt fear clench her gut. She had dolls at home. They weren’t real, they were just bits of plastic. Plastic that she played with. Twisting their limbs, dressing them up and cutting all their hair off. Dolls were toys. Betty was a toy. She and the others were Cheryl’s toys.

The boy’s  tried to stay frozen, stay quiet. But the intensity of the situation was killing her. Killing them. Betty felt like she had been sucked into a vacuum. The silence was overbearing. She allowed herself a single breath of air just as Cheryl Blossom answered her mother; 'They're okay.' She said, her tone strained, voice tight. 'I like to check up on them every day to see how they are.’

Penelope Blossom hummed in acknowledgment, and Betty inwardly cringed when there was the delicate sound of footsteps making their way over to her. They stopped directly in front of her, and Betty had to suppress the urge to cry out. Her eyes stung with tears, but she squeezed them so tightly there was a visual explosion in front of her eyelids that made her dizzy.

Betty replayed Cheryl's voice in her head; _Don't move, don't blink. Don't flinch._

'It's truly amazing how much youth and beauty has been trapped inside of them.' The woman murmured. Betty felt the woman's  claw-like fingernails suddenly scathing her cheeks, and she had to bite down on her lip to stop herself crying out. She could feel sweat beading on her forehead.

'Who's your favourite?' Penelope asked. She continued to rake her fingernails down Betty's cheek, her fingers trailing over Betty's lips. But Betty was powerless. She couldn't move. She couldn't fight back. She could only sit there, a child trapped in a teenager's body.

'Archie.' Cheryl startled her when she answered. 'He's special.' The girl sighed. ‘

'The Andrews boy?' Cheryl’s mother chuckled darkly. ‘Cheryl, he’s nothing special. His freckles are a big let-down. Though, hmm. That startling red hair really does suit him. Perhaps you’re right,’ she murmured.  Betty sensed movement as the woman moved onto one of the others. She still felt the violation of Penelope Blossom's fingers on her cheeks, sharp fingernails scathing her flesh.

'I've always been a fan of Jughead Jones.' Penelope said, almost dreamily. Betty felt bile rise at the back of her throat. Jughead was trembling. Well, all three of them were. Penelope Blossom failed to notice the little jittery movements they were making, how the three of them moved as an individual shaking mess. ‘I strictly remember having him brown eyes. They are his only flaw.’

‘He’s a sixteen year old boy, mother.’ Cheryl muttered. ‘You can’t expect him to be a model.’

Penelope chuckled. ‘Oh, but he is!’ she purred;

 'His jaw is chiselled to perfection. Penelope sighed. 'It's strange how a little brat could be inside a body so beautiful. Look at his hair, his skin. It's practically porcelain, Cheryl. I never knew how much the spell would affect them.'

Betty felt her stomach twist into uncomfortable knots. What was Miss Blossom talking about?

'Yeah, they're pretty beautiful.' Cheryl said stiffly. ‘Mom, no offence, but you’re starting to sound creepy.’ Her voice shook slightly. ‘They’re still kids, mom. They didn’t grow up like I did.’

 Cheryl sounded as disgusted as Betty felt. 'Mom, don't touch him like that!' The girl hissed, an edge to her tone. Betty wanted so badly to open her eyes and look.

‘You can’t-‘ Cheryl’s voice was a protective growl. ‘Mom, stop touching his face.’

‘Mr Andrews is eternally asleep, honey. See, look. If I was to do this,’ Betty definitely felt Archie tense up against her once more. ‘He won’t feel anything. He’s plastic, Cheryl. Just a doll.’

Cheryl spoke with gritted teeth. ‘It doesn’t mean you can touch him like that, mom.’

 Penelope hummed softly in agreement. 'I'm sorry, honey. I just can't get over them. They're like sculpted angels.' A chuckle. 'Of course in your imaginary world, they're still your little friends. But in the real world, they're statues I'm itching to put in the main hall.'

Betty was sure she heard a single intake of breath. It sounded like Archie. Cheryl must have noticed, because she coughed loudly, before letting out a disgusted snort. 'What?' She hissed.

Penelope ignored Cheryl's tone. 'Hmm. I'm thinking the Andrews boy can go in the foyer. Though the little frown that’s been stuck to his face is almost as bad as his freckles!’ That time, Betty did flinch.

‘Maybe we can force a smile!' Penelope said gleefully. 'All it takes is parting his lips slightly. I have Fred Andrews coming over to talk about ripping down the Twilight diner. It would give me deep satisfaction knowing that he can walk past the son he never even saw grow up.'

Betty thought Archie might break. She could practically hear his shuddery breaths escaping his lips as he forced himself to stay still, to stay calm. Archie had always been the over-dramatic one when they were kids. But they were still kids. Archie was just a frightened child trapped inside a teenage boy.

Betty waited for him to let out a cry, but there was nothing. Only short gasps of breath he was trying to keep discreet. Though as much as Betty tried to tell herself they weren't noticeable, she could definitely hear them cut through the silence that had swept over the room. Come on, Archie. She thought desperately. Betty felt for the boy's hands, an attempt at being reassuring. But there were at least six different hands connected to her, coiled in tough rope.

'Mom, they're not marble.' Cheryl practically growled. 'People are going to talk if you use frozen teenagers as house decorations.'

Penelope Blossom chuckled. 'I'm sure we can find a spell to turn them to a more manageable material, honey.’ She cackled. ‘How about stone?’

Cheryl didn't say anything. Betty's heart was racing. Miss Blossom wanted to turn them to stone?

“Or wax.’ The woman continued. ‘Then they will be completely lifelike.’

‘You have a sick kind, mother.’ Cheryl eventually muttered.

Though the woman wasn't done. Her tone turned sour. 'What's wrong, Cheryl?’ She asked with mock innocence. ‘Have you grown attached to your dolls?'

Betty held herself, forcing her body to stay frozen. But the woman's words cut into her like glass. She managed to keep her eyes shut, despite the overbearing urge to open them and freak out. Betty felt like there were heavy weights on her chest, crushing her heart. The ropes around her wrists and weren't helping. She gave them a gentle tug, far too discreet to get caught. But the bonds dug harshly into her skin. Betty wondered how long she would be able to hold her breath. Cheryl's mother's voice pierced through her thoughts. Her voice sounded so close- as if Penelope Blossom was inches from her face. Betty felt the woman’s breath tickle her face.

Don't breathe. She went over Cheryl’s mantra in her head. Keep your eyes shut. Betty realised, a shot of electricity running through her, that she was crying. She felt tears slowly sliding down her cheeks and fought back a sniff, a whimper. There was an uneasy silence as Betty held her head frozen in the same position. Her neck was aching, her head was pounding. She could practically feel Penelope Blossom’s scrutinizing gaze boring into her. Betty was finding it hard to hold back a tearful shriek.

‘Or we could just...kill them.’ Penelope said softly. Betty felt the woman’s breath dancing across her parched lips. She longed to turn her head away, but then she surely would be caught. Unless Penelope had already caught her.

‘And then we can burn their remains in the backyard.’ She sighed wistfully. ‘Even better. The Blossom graveyard!’

‘Mom.’ Cheryl muttered impatiently. ‘Shouldn’t you be getting ready for The Cooper charity Gala?’

‘Ah, yes.’ Penelope Blossom murmured. ‘The wonderfully oblivious Alice Cooper.’ Once again the woman’s warm breath was in Betty’s face. ‘Completely unaware that her daughter is righttttt here.’

Betty fought against a cry of fright. **Don’t move**. Cheryl’s words were getting harder and harder to follow. **Don’t open your eyes.** Cheryl’s mother’s voice was as cold as steel, almost the delightful hiss of a snake. ‘Sweet Betty Cooper.’ She murmured. ‘All grown up. No longer Alice’s little angel.’

 **Don’t breathe.** Betty repeated Cheryl’s words in her head as loud as she possibly could. She screamed them with her highest mental voice. She winced slightly, scared the woman could actually hear her. Betty felt a combination of fingers twine through hers. Archie and Jughead. Either reassuring her, or more likely; they were as scared as her, seeking out comfort.

‘Do you pity them Cheryl?’ Penelope asked the other girl. Betty heard the breath catch in Cheryl’s throat, as if her response was an automatic; ‘Yes.’

‘No.’ She replied in a hissed breath.  Penelope chuckled. ‘That’s right, honey. You’re to never, _ever_ pity the little brats.’ Betty stiffened. She swore Jughead made the tiniest, most discreet squeak. Was this because of their little games? Their little kids games? Betty felt a stream of anger flood her veins, igniting her from the inside. She wasn’t even- she wasn’t even part of the teasing!

It was Jughead who had hidden her snacks at break-time, and Veronica who had stolen her favourite princess dress. Archie hadn’t really done anything, except complain how annoying she was.

Betty gritted her teeth. She hadn’t done anything wrong! And she was being punished.

 _This wasn’t- this wasn’t fair_! Betty kicked and screamed in her head. She tugged at her hair, ripping it out. She lunged at Veronica. At Archie and Jughead, for being so stupid. So completely stupid!

Yet in this cruel new reality, in this life she had been stolen from for five years. She stayed completely immobile, biting back the urge to cry out from the icy concrete tickling her soles as she rested them on the ground. Despite her mind stampeding inside her skull, having the Tantrum of all Tantrum’s. _Get away from me._  Betty wanted to whimper in the evil witch’s face.

She felt the woman’s gaze burning into her own, and discomfort wiggled up and down her spine. ‘Betty Cooper, Archie Andrews, Jughead Jones and Veronica Lodge.’ Betty resisted to flinch as each of their names was spat into her face. Betty felt the saliva hit, and settle onto her lips. The urge to desperately wipe it away was overwhelming. ‘Four little kids their parents forgot..’

Jughead definitely let out a single shaky breath that time. ‘The town forgot..’ Penelope continued, before Betty felt the woman’s fingers tangling in her ponytail, before gripping hard- and yanking her head back. **DON’T MOVE. DON’T OPEN YOUR EYES.** Betty felt tears spring to her eyes as the woman tugged her hair as if she was playing with a ragdoll. She felt her head bash into one of the boy’s, and had to hold her breath to stay silent. To stay completely still. _Stay still, Betty. Stay completely-_

‘How about we play a game?’ Penelope spoke up. ‘Cheryl, sweetheart, fetch me some scissors.’

‘What?’ Cheryl hissed. She chuckled nervously. ‘Why on earth do you want scissors, mother?’

The woman giggled manically, and Betty heard Archie whimper. ‘Your dolls have looked the same for a while, honey. As much as I love how they look, how about we give them a make-over?’

 _No._ Betty couldn’t do it anymore. She longed to blink her eyes open and scream that she was alive, that she was free- that she _wanted her mother so much it hurt_. More footsteps. This time however, Penelope went over to the boys. Betty held in a sob, a gasp for breath, when she heard the unmistakable clang of metallic scissors meeting fleshy palms. ‘First of all, I want to cut of all of their hair..’ The woman murmured. Betty could imagine the woman dragging the scissor blade down a much older Jughead’s cheek. A Jughead she didn’t know. As he squeezed his eyes shut like her, his breath held, lungs constricting with pressure as she leaned closer and closer to him, her breath in his face. ‘How about we get rid of Archie’s freckles?’ She said. When Cheryl made a noise of protest, her mother chuckled. ‘He won’t feel anything, Pumpkin. He’s under a spell. Remember?’

‘Yes, of course.’ Cheryl said weakly. The woman made an acknowledging noise. ‘Oh Cheryl, imagine the possibilities! We could make them even more perfect than they are now.’

Cheryl didn’t answer. Betty sensed the girl’s discomfort. How on-edge she truly was. ‘Mom..’ She started softly, but Penelope cleared her throat, ignoring her daughter. Betty had a feeling they had a strained relationship.  ‘I’ll start with the Jones kid. His eyes have been bugging me. Fetch me some Blue dye, honey. I think a lovely Sapphire Blue will suit him perfectly.’

‘You can’t...’ Cheryl choked out a laugh. ‘Mom, you can’t dye his eyes!

‘Why not? He won’t feel it.’ Betty heard the grin in the woman’s voice. ‘Look at him,’ Betty imagined Miss Blossom’s witch-like fingers gripping her best friend’s chin and forcing it her way. She remembered Jughead’s ten-year-old face perfectly. Chocolate brown hair and a teasing grin. It hurt her to think Miss Blossom was being so violent. She felt every shiver that ran down the boy’s spine. She felt every tremor he tried to keep discreet that rocked his body up and down.  ‘Now all I need to do is prise open his lids. Cheryl, please don’t dawdle. I have some Azul dye over there.’

Betty felt sweaty fingers entwine with hers, and she swallowed a hiccup. Juggie. She wanted to cry out to him, to tell him it was okay. Cheryl was going to save them from the evil witch. They just had to hold on just a little longer. _Just a little longer, Juggie_. She whimpered in her mind.

Though part of her, the inner ten year old that had failed to grow up, despised her friend. He and Veronica and Archie were the reason why she was in this mess. Because they were mean.

Because they had made silly passwords up for their games, locking her out when she tried to play. But Betty failed to understand that she too had been giggling with them, making up words so Cheryl could never guess. Ten year old Betty was far too stubborn to remember she too had been a bully;

_‘Cube?’ Cheryl was on the edge of tears, her lips sealed together. Though her eyes lit up with hope as she uttered what must have been her tenth attempt at guessing their password to join in their game of tag. ‘Nope!’ Veronica shouted gleefully. ‘Guess again, Cheryl!’ she giggled. Clearly enjoying it._

_‘Can you- can you give me a clue?’ The girl whimpered. Betty shook her head, her blonde ponytail whipping in her face. ‘Wrong again, Cheryl!’ she clutched Jughead and Archie’s hands, and they all shared a sly look, knowing that they could make up any word in the English language and Cheryl would never guess it. Jughead giggled. ‘You have one more try, Cheryl. Come on, it’s easy!’_

‘No.’ Cheryl’s reply shocked her out of the memory, and Betty very nearly opened her eyes. Penelope’s sharp intake of breath chilled her to the core. ‘No?’ The woman repeated, with mock innocence. ‘Why would that be, Cheryl?’

 **Don’t move. Don’t flinch. Don’t open your eyes.** Cheryl’s mantra was getting harder and harder to follow. But it was when Penelope Blossom let out a hiss. ‘I knew it!’ and Jughead finally let out a loud and very noticeable shriek, when Betty’s eyes flew open, her thoughts pummelling her.

‘Get away-‘ Jughead’s voice was surprisingly cold. But he was whimpering. ‘Get away from me!’

She blinked rapidly through clouded vision and twisted her aching neck, so she could see what was happening. Betty let out a breath when she finally saw Archie, who had also turned his head, his eyes wide open in fright. The two of them made eye-contact. Two ten-year-olds seeing each-other as grown teenagers. No matter how hard Betty looked for her friend, all she saw was a grown boy, with dark red hair- that wash of freckles still decorating his pale face. Archie stared at her and swallowed. His lips twisted into a frown. ‘Betty?’ He whispered. His voice was hoarse. But there was no time for a reunion. Both of them twisted back around when Penelope Blossom let out a loud laugh. ‘You broke the spell!’ She cackled, at Cheryl, who was standing frozen, almost petrified, behind her.

‘I had to.’ Cheryl whimpered. ‘Mom, it’s abuse. It’s kidnapping- attempted murder! It’s not fun anymore!’ she insisted. ‘Mommy, they were suffering. I could tell they were in pain, that they were trapped.’

‘So you freed them.’ Penelope murmured. She started to pace the room, and Betty followed the woman’s manic stride with wide eyes. ‘You let your childhood tormentors, your little dollies, escape.’

‘I’m going to take them away, mom.’ Cheryl said softly. Calmly. ‘I’m going to find the witch that did this to them, and take them back to their families.’

Penelope barked out a laugh. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, you little brat.’ Then the woman was marching towards the teens, grabbing hold of Archie by the hair. The boy hissed out in pain, but didn’t cry out. ‘You made a mistake awakening them, Cheryl.’ The woman growled, as she got to work untying the Andrews boy and yanking him from his seat. Betty felt the boy being ripped away, his back no longer pressed against hers. Jughead strained in his bonds, letting out a cry; ‘Let him go!’

Penelope dragged Archie so he was facing his friends. She held him in a tight embrace, her arms coiled around his neck. He struggled to no avail. ‘How about I slice his freckles off now?’ The woman cackled. ‘While he’s completely conscious?’

‘You’re crazy!’ Jughead cried. ‘Why are you doing this? Let us go you crazy witch!’

Betty couldn’t help it, then. She turned her head to look at this older version of Jughead, this boy she hadn’t seen grow up. When she did see him, her heart spiked a little. Her stomach rolled with a feeling she didn’t understand. The teenage boy was twisted in his own chair, his dark eyes wide with fright as they set on Archie. He had the same dark hair, tousled and curled at the edges as it brushed against that same olive skin. But that was where the familiarities stopped. The boy’s face was curvier, his eyes darker and a lot older. Gone was the childish gleam she was so used to.

Jughead was staring back at her, she realised. She detected confusion clouding his iris. _Betty?_ He mouthed.

‘Aw, isn’t that sweet, Cheryl?’ Penelope murmured. ‘Your dolls remember each-other.’

Betty turned back to the crazy woman, blinking hard. So much to take in. Jughead and Archie looked completely different. Her heart ached. What about Veronica?

Penelope had hold of the scissors again, and was scathing the blade slowly down Archie’s cheek. The boy squirmed in her grip. ‘Please,’ he gasped. ‘Miss Blossom, Please don’t- don’t do this!’

Cheryl was unusually quiet. Betty struggled in her own bonds, yanking at the ropes twined around her wrists. That had held her for five years. ‘Juggie.’ She was speaking like a child, but with the voice of a  teenage girl. It terrified her. ‘Juggie, what do we do?!’ she cried.

His reply startled her. She would never get used to his grown-up-voice. ‘I don’t know.’ He whispered. Both of them had no choice but to watch the horror unfold, as Penelope Blossom sliced the blade into their friend’s cheek. ‘Cheryl!’ Betty squeaked, her eyes filling with tears. ‘Please stop her!’

Cheryl didn’t answer. Her dark green eyes were instead pin-pointed on the wooden doors of the barn they were in. She was rolling her phone around in her palm, muttering to herself.

Archie let out a cry, as the blade slowly dug into his cheek, a pool of scarlet starting to dribble down his pale cheeks. ‘Stop struggling,’ Penelope growled. ‘You’ll look better without those disgusting freckles-‘

The woman’s words were drowned out by a mechanical roar of engines, which forced a cry from Betty’s lips. She ducked her head, cowering with fright when the huge barn doors crashed open, followed by a silver Vauxhall, which careered directly into Penelope Blossom, who instantly let go of Archie, who fell to his knees. With the woman distracted and on the ground, Cheryl made her move, lunging towards her mother and smashing something- a vase? Over the witch’s head.

Penelope hit the ground with an _oomph_ as the car came to a stop, its headlights blaring making Betty squint. A boy stuck his head out of the window, and Betty had to bite her lip to stop herself from screaming her friend’s name; ‘Kevin!’ The boy was undoubtedly Kevin Keller. He had the same close-cropped dark hair and tan skin. He was even wearing a sweater vest.

‘What the hell?’ Kevin jumped out of the drivers seat and delicately stepped over Penelope Blossom’s body. Archie was on his knees next to her, breathing heavily. ‘Did I just witness you smash your mother over the head with a vase?’ Kevin hissed to Cheryl, who had wandered over to Betty and Jughead and started to untie them. Betty felt the ropes loosen around her wrists. The relief was overwhelming. Cheryl was breathing heavily. She let out a choked laugh. ‘For once, Keller. Your shitty driving saved us.’

Kevin frowned, confused. ‘Saved who?’ His eyes were on Betty, Jughead, and then Archie. His eyes widened comically. ‘Cheryl, why are they tied up?’ He asked shakily. ‘Who are these kids?’

Cheryl sighed. ‘It’s a really long story. Can you just get Archie into the car? I’ve got these three.’ As soon as Betty was untied, Cheryl helped her to stand. Betty was wobbly on her feet, but the girl kept hold of her. Cheryl grabbed her shoulders and forced a smile. ‘I know this is scary, Betty, and I know you’re still ten years old. But you need to trust me okay?’

Betty nodded shakily. Cheryl helped Jughead up next, who automatically grabbed her hand, squeezing it like his life depended on it. Kevin wandered over, looking flustered. ‘Cheryl, that red-head isn’t saying a word, is he mute?’

Cheryl shook her head. ‘I’ll tell you everything in the car. For now, grab Veronica. She’s still asleep.’

‘Uh, sure.’ Kevin started to untie the dark haired girl. ‘Cheryl, no offense, but did you guys like, go on a kidnapping spree, taking four random teens?’ Kevin managed to carry Veronica, bridle style, over to the car. While Kevin was gently lying the girl across the seats, Cheryl turned to Betty and Jughead. ‘Try not to freak Kevin out, okay?’ she hissed, ushering them to the car. ‘Try and act like teenagers.’ The girl sighed. ‘If he asks you anything, just- uh... grunt and mutter something.’

Jughead folded his arms across his chest, with a childish huff. ‘Why can’t we speak to him? He’s our friend.’

Cheryl sighed again. ‘He doesn’t remember you.’ She eventually said. ‘Nobody remembers you.’

Betty stared at the girl, and Jughead gripped her hand so tight she had to hold back a cry.

‘Alright, we’re ready to go!’ Kevin shouted from the drivers seat. Betty and Jughead climbed in the backseat, where Archie was kneeling on the plush leather seats, Veronica lying over his lap. His cheek was still smeared scarlet. ‘I’m scared.’ He said softly, and Jughead grabbed his hand, as Kevin started the engine and flicked the radio on. ‘Kev!’ Cheryl hissed, to which the boy frowned. ‘What?’ The boy hissed in frustration, his hands gripping the steering wheel. ‘Alright Cheryl, you’re gonna tell me why you had four teens tied up in your barn and why they look like traumatised three-year-olds.’

‘I’m ten!’ Jughead insisted. Archie nodded. ‘Same here. We’re not three, Kev.’

Betty didn’t say anything, but she did watch Kevin Keller’s cheeks get progressively paler. He twisted around to frown at the three of them. ‘You’re ten?’ He repeated, his voice strained. ‘And how exactly do you know my name?’ His eyes narrowed.

Cheryl rolled her eyes, leaning against her seat. ‘Oh boy.’ She grabbed the boy and forced him to sit straight, towards the front. ‘Drive, Keller.’ She said. ‘Drive, and I’ll tell you everything.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoepfully you guys are still enjoying! :) Please leave Kudos and a comment if you'd like more :D

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like more, feel free to leave kudos and a comment! :)


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